Positive
by straight.forward
Summary: Ashley's infected. Spencer isn't, and this is NOT your average love story.


Helloooo all, this is my first Spashley fic so go easy on me :D I was inspired by something I read and this sorta popped out. I'd like to think this is pretty unique, defo not the usual 'girl meets girl' rom-com you guys are probably used to. I'm a shit updater so if you guys really want it continued, feel free to voice those thoughts, haha.

* * *

_What the fuck? _

That was my first thought on the day my whole life changed. I didn't know it at the time, obviously. Man, I should've known something was different with me that morning. I mean, who wakes up after a night of partying, drinking, hooking up with random guys and waking up in one of the said mentioned guys' bed and doesn't have a hangover? Let me ask you that? Okay, well, you may have had the pleasure of knowing maybe one person like that. The chances, if I'm not mistaken, are around 0.0002377342% that you would have a close friend or sibling like that. That's if you're living in the Western world of course, can't say anything if you're Asian though. Anyway, back to the story of that day...

_The first thing I see is some guy's back. I can hazily remember him from last night, and if my memory's anything to go by, we had had a fantastic time. I find myself smirking at that. Sex, for me, is easy. Call it genes or some kind of natural instinct or whatever, but the fact is that I've never been bad at sex. Ever. Obviously being a 2nd year pre-med does help but when it comes to sex, it's all practical. _

_I carefully slip out of the large bed and into my clothes from the night before. Man, I feel damn good, and not just from the accomplishment of being able to tire a guy out, I do that on a weekly basis. It's like...I don't know, it's like-_

The sound of my phone buzzing in my pocket snaps me out of my little flashback. It's Clay, one of my buds in Records. I groan, it's like 8 fucking am on a Sunday. This is the worst job in the world. I swear to God, even if the pay's quite awesome. My house is near the beach, everything is ultra modern, just the way I like it. I've a Porche, 2 Ferrari's, 2 Mercedes. What the hell else I'm gonna do with a 6 figure paycheck? It's not like I can spend it on a girlfriend or boyfriend. Being a Positive means no relationships, only Positive friends, and complete dedication to your job.

"You got anything for me?" I ask him, no need to bother with pleasantries, it's kind of grown old with us Positives.

I hear the sound of pens writing away and keyboards being typed diligently into. I've no idea how anyone would want to work in freakin Records, it's mind numbing. I guess if you're scared of all the crazy ass Newly Infecteds (NI's) scratching and biting you or something, which can be pretty annoying, but it's not gonna kill you. Not many things can once you become infected.

"Yeah, name's Michelle...um, something, she's Ukrainian, not gonna try pronouncing that."

I chuckle dryly; I'm hungry, I need some fucking meat, there are horny people everywhere and it's driving me nuts, I'm in no mood for games. "Just give me what I need to know."

"Right, ok. Well, she's a Michael Jackson fan, loves to ski, likes to read poetry. Oh, here's a good one, she's apparently a die-hard Twilight fan." I raise my eyebrow at that one. Twilight...hah! What a fucking joke. I mean, who the fuck would glitter in the fucking sunlight? I mean _seriously._

"Cool, I'll see you soon." With that, I flip my phone shut and get the required items. After you've been doing this a little while, you become really acquainted with all the shops in L.A. You'd be surprised at what some of the shops here sell. I manage to acquire everything I need and be at this girl's place in less than 60 minutes.

I take a few deep breaths, capturing an NI is never easy. On good days they'd calm down quickly after you use their antidotes, on bad days they will come at you for hours on end. I shudder at the thought. Man, some of them are goddamn strong, but most of the girls are usually okay. In my experience anyway, not that I've had that much. I've only managed to get 4 or 5 NI's back to the transition center in Texas.

* * *

Inside the small apartment, everything's a mess. The wallpaper's been torn down, looks like a bunch of wild cats scratched it, but I know it's her, everything's all over the place. There's broken glass, food stains, household appliances everywhere, the lights are barely flickering. Doesn't matter though, as a Positive, my eyesight's about 50 times better than that of an average person, and I've never come across any place where I haven't been able to see my surroundings. I can read fine print underneath starlight. I have to turn my dvd player, my tv, my computer screen, everything in my _living room_ off by hand because their little lights keep me up at night in my _bedroom_. In fact, all my senses have been heightened incredibly. Sometimes I think that even though I'm 'infected' and a 'Positive', I'm actually a lot better off than everyone else. **Then** I get a whiff of some girl's shampoo or body wash, see a hot guy nearby with his shirt off, and I realize that this actually fucking **sucks**.

The absolute, worst part of being a Positive is that sex is not allowed under any circumstances. Kissing is strictly prohibited at all times, even handholding or any sort of physical contact with other people is strongly discouraged. The virus- no, **_parasite_** wants to be spread, like any other kind of living thing would, and yet I, as one of its hosts, am not allowed to let that happen. There'd be chaos, people would go crazy everywhere, blah blah blah. I'll admit, I wasn't paying that much attention to what they were talking about at the transition center. What? I'm 20, you can't expect me to sit in one spot all day and listen to all that would you? I know what you're thinking, but pre-med is a piece of cake compared to that.

I can hear her breathing in one of the rooms where all the lights are turned off. I make as little noise as possible, one hand tightly grasping a coupld of Twilight novels, the other with some MJ merchandise. A bunch of other stuff are also in the bag slung over my shoulder, there's also a syringe full of toxin if I really needed 's more than enough to kill a normal person, but an NI would just probably be knocked unconscious. It's discouraged for...I don't know, some reason.

I reach the door, push down on the handle and open it...

There's a deafening scream for possibly the longest 30 seconds of my life, then it's silence.

* * *

It's pretty easy after that, a lot less struggling than I expected. There was something in her eyes though, it was kind of like that red flash in your eye in a bad picture. Except it was in real life. Probably just a weird after-effect.

OK, back to the little flashback earlier...

_It's like someone pumped you with new...life. I know that sounds nuts but everything was clearer, everything felt better, hell, everything even smelt better. It was as if I'd just been awaken fro a dream world or I've been killed and gone to heaven or just escaped from the Matrix like Neo or something. I look around, the guys become hotter, the girls become sexier and all of a sudden I'm feeling kind of...horny. As if reading my mind, a tall, tanned brunette smiles at me as she walks past. Man, I wouldn't mind eating her up._

I did, if you're wondering. I had quite a bit of sex, like, **mindblowing** sex after that, until the transition guy popped out of nowhere...and that was that. A year and a half later and here I am.

Anyway, all you really need to know about me is this, I'm Ashley Davies, 20 years old and I'm Parasite Positive.


End file.
